


Initiative

by affectionatehomosexual (brumbleponion)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Daddy Kink, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 03:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7343836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brumbleponion/pseuds/affectionatehomosexual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony’d always been told that there were two types of people in the world: people that drink with you and people that make you wanna drink.</p><p>Steve Rogers falls undeniably into the second category.</p><p>*Tony's a photographer who lets something slip during a shoot. It's a surprisingly effective catalyst for a pretty stellar relationship*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Initiative

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pitchernum1](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=pitchernum1).



> Gift!fic to the best guy in the world. He looked over all of my shit before he even joined the trash heap that is Hartwin and I love him for it. I've broken this fic up into snippets to make it more manageable, and there are time jumps between each. I honestly wanted to just write a bit of spanking but then pitchernum1 said 'model AU' and so I had to bring that in. I just made the photoshoot the catalyst for their relationship. There's *squint and you see it* clint/phil. 
> 
> Tony and Steve are younger in this one, I was thinking mid 20's when I wrote it. I also literally know nothing about photography. I'm off in lalaland as far as that point of realism goes, lol. Steve is taking a lot of initiative in this fic so if you're not down with a Steve who has goals and is willing to ask for them, I'd watch out for this one. :3

 

 

**I. Joe’s Daddy**

Tony’d always been told that there were two types of people in the world: people that drink with you and people that make you wanna drink.

Steve Rogers falls undeniably into the second category.

There was a gig he’d been asked to do. An “American’s Next Top Model” type shtick that would leave him with some extra pocket change and some new connections. He’d been told the week before that the model was a newer type and might need a bit more direction, but that was cool, Tony thought. He could do it.

Steve is a shy kind of guy. He photographs well which is likely the _only_ reason he’s in modeling because when it comes to taking direction, _a bit more direction_ is less of an understatement than it is a blatant lie.

“Alright, no.” Tony sighs. He’s laying on the floor with the camera cradled to his chest. “You need to put your arm up _on_ the table because if you don’t you end up looking like an amputee.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve says. He adjusts the way he’s sitting so that his elbow is up on the table. Okay, Tony can work with that. Except now Steve’s feet have turned in and he looks pigeon-toed. God almighty.

When Tony stands up he makes sure he’s as dramatic about it as possible. He yanks the camera strap over his head and hands the thing off to Clint and then he goes over to arrange Steve the way he wants him. Momma always said a job you want done right, you do your goddamn self.

“You’re a good lookin’ guy, but we gotta work together on this.” Tony tells him gently as he winds an arm around Steve’s shoulder and turns him. Then he gets a good hand on either of Steve’s knees and spreads them wide. The man tenses up tremendously. “Okay, how about this. You’re not Steve Rogers anymore. That guy just got fired. You’re a man in a suit named Joe, worth more than a college degree. You’ve got two dogs and a bottle blond wife, three lambos out in the garage, and a house in Tahiti.”

Tony needs to see Steve dominating this space. The face is a gift from god - there isn’t much that Steve has to do to get it right, but the control he has of his body isn’t enough. It won’t work for high-end photography and so if Tony has to transform him into the confident man who’ll give him a picture, so be it. He’ll go two-in-one counselor/photographer. Don't fucking test him.

“You’re in a Brioni sipping a Winston Cocktail. Act like it.”

Steve looks up at Tony who's still standing between his spread legs. He nods and says, “Alright. I think I’ve got it.”

Steve doesn’t move for the first picture. Tony gets that shot because it’s something he can use, but it’s still not what he’s _looking_ for. It’s a backup picture for if he can’t finagle the right image out of Steve before the next hour is up. “C’mon Joe, give daddy something to work with."

Clint thwacks his arm because he’s tried to turn him off of using those horrible self-endearments, but Steve’s reaction to the command is staggering. He loosens up enough that he slips down minutely in the chair, forearm going lose over his thigh, legs spreading more on their own and he tilts his head back enough that the light catches the strong bridge of his nose and the cut of his jaw. It’s like the skies have opened up and Tony whispers, “Fucking _yes,_ that’s it. Hold it!”

The photo shoot is successful from the second daddy busts out of the closet wielding his Contax 645 and Steve just _does it_. Tony’s pulling his back to get some of these shots; and the good thing about having a digital back is that he has a good idea of what’s working on screen before he even sees it on the bigger screen. He crawls around set so that he can get Steve from every angle even if he (admittedly) doesn’t need to. There’s just the soft sounds of Steve occasionally adjusting himself and the clicking of the shutter as the shoot moves along.

Steve makes up for the horrible first half by absolutely murdering the objective in the second half.

“Jesus, Steve. That’s called killing it.” Tony calls out as he takes a few final shots.

“You’re really good at giving direction.” Steve tells him. “Are we wrapping it up?”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re done. Wanna come see?”

Steve climbs up out of his chair and Tony hands his camera off to Clint so that they can go look at the computer screen together.

Tony’s not one to toot his own horn because the truth is that a large part of this photoshoot’s success has to be attributed to the fact that Steve looks really good and he photographs well. Still, he’d at least like some gratification for the absolute magic that’s sitting on the screen right now.

“Wow! Tony, these are great.” Steve says.

Tony agrees enthusiastically. “Yeah, they really are.”

“Holy shit,” Clint says as he peeks his head over their shoulders to look. "What the fuck Tony."

Steve goes a bit red but he’s smiling. “These make me look really good.”

“You already look good.” Tony tells him. He only realizes after he’s said it that he might be making this whole exchange a little bit awkward, but he doesn’t take it back because literally anyone with eyes would say the same thing.

Steve goes another shade darker and covers his mouth in an attempt to hide it. Clint snickers and scurries off with the camera while Tony flips through the remaining photos. There’s a moment where neither of them are speaking with each other, distracted by their work and by the people bustling around them to adjust the set, but then someone addresses Steve from over the computer screen.

“Hey, you ready to go?”

“Bucky, you didn't have to come get me.” Steve smiles. “We just finished. Could you give me a minute?”

Tony doesn’t even try to hide his interest. He looks up from the screen and gives the guy - oops, _Bucky_ \- a good once over. He’s a photographer; he can blame the attention on his craft if he needs to.

“No, these are good.” Tony tells Steve. “You can leave if you need to go.”

Steve opens his mouth and then closes it. He seems a bit nervous about something, but in the end he just mumbles a quick, “Okay. Thanks. I’ll see you later, Tony.”

Steve has no right to say ‘I’ll see you later’ when he’s leaving with the lead singer of My Chemical Romance but Tony dismisses it and waves cordially. He’s got a long day of work ahead of him with this shoot, so he decides that he’ll get started on it, get halfway through, then shirk his responsibilities and call Clint and Rhodey so that they can all go downtown together and get smashed.

**II: Connections in High Places**

Tony tries not to think about Steve for the next three days.

He’s completely unsuccessful and super agitated at the end of them but the main idea here is that he tries, because he’s pretty sure that Steve is dating Gerard Way (or his distant relative, only one cousin away max) and the guy had literally swept him out of the photoshoot so that looks like a promising and long-lasting union.

Clint comes over and recognizes his silence for what it is: a severe sulking episode.

But like all good friends, he comes bearing awesome fucking news. He’s halfway through Tony’s door when he says, “I came to drop a gift off.”

That wakes Tony right up. He lifts himself off of the shaggy rug in his living room and peers around the corner where Clint is shrugging rain off of his coat. “What kind of gift?”

“Number. Steve’s. I got it.”

It takes a second for Tony to realize what he’s saying. He actually thinks he’s misheard because honestly, Clint hasn’t even really made it into the house, but when he runs to the entryway he sees Clint digging into the pocket of his coat and he just _knows_ that the guy wouldn’t lie about this.

“Dude, are you kidding? How the fuck...?”

“I didn’t do anything.” Clint tells him. He hands the small receipt off to Tony when the man is close enough to reach. He’s soaked through and so he’s standing hesitantly in the doorway, dripping onto the welcome mat. “I ran into his friend at the store and he told me to give it to you.”

“His friend?” Tony asks.

“Yeah. Dude with the long hair.”

That gives Tony pause. He fingers the small piece of paper and looks down at the scrawl on the blank side of it. “Huh.”

“I can’t stay,” Clint huffs angrily. “Coulson needs me to run errands.”

That’s _probably_ a euphemism, but Tony’ll let it slide. He can’t judge Clint for shagging the boss when he’s literally making heart eyes over a client’s number. It’s just a strange concept to watch his best friend fuck the guy who writes his checks, because the real question becomes why his paychecks aren’t getting any bigger. This relationship's gotta come with perks. Still, he has plenty of time to beat that horse after he’s put the number in his hand to use, so he lets Clint go with a quick,  “Tell him I said hi… and stay off my fucking desk.”

“Not heading to work but I’ll keep that in mind next time we’re in your office together.” Clint salutes before turning to let himself back out of the house.

Then it’s just Tony and the phone number.

The first and most satisfactory point in all of this is that he hadn’t gotten it wrong - that little stunt he pulled during the shoot had definitely done him a favor. So he tugs his phone out of his pocket to find out _how_ big of a favor it’d managed to hook him.

**III: The GPS to hell**

It takes a week or two to work it into their schedules, but Tony nabs a date with Steve Rogers. All things considered, he’s pretty pleased with himself.

He gets out a blank piece of paper, writes himself a good job note and then lays in his bed and imagines how it's gonna go because clearly he's a lovesick kind of idiot who's assuming a good night out with an even better night in. 

But as clear as Tony thinks he is about what kind of company he’d like to treat Steve to, and as much preparation as he treats himself to so that he'll be ready for the fateful evening, when it finally arrives and he goes to collect the man from his apartment a few blocks over, all of those thoughts fly right out the window and he's stuck thinking indecently that he may have made a big mistake as far as evening plans go. 

“Holy shit,” Tony says as Steve climbs into the car with a smile on his face. Honestly, Steve might be the most handsome man in New York - Tony owns a mirror so he doesn’t say that lightly.

“What?” Steve says suddenly. He’s wearing a brown denim jacket with a loose, white undershirt and a pair of (indecently tight) jeans. They creak over his thighs as he adjusts himself in his seat and Tony has to force his eyes back to the steering wheel to right his mind. 

“Nothing, just… remembered something. So, uh. Chinese food?”

Steve shrugs and says, “It’s completely up to you.”

Tony decides to take him to a smaller place called Pacificana. He doesn’t wanna stuff himself if he can help it and he’s sure Steve won’t mind that it’s not all you can eat.

Steve fills the silence of the car ride with conversations about food and that’s something that Tony could write a novel on, so the conversation quickly derails into a heated discussion about which ingredients push ‘grilled cheese’ over the line into another category of sandwich. _That's_  a conversation that carries them through the beginnings of dinner and then bleeds into a softer discussion on types of tea.

It’s most likely when Steve says, “Honestly, I think I prefer coffee.” that Tony admits he’s slipping into some descent of madness and that he might actually end up fucking himself up over this guy. This is really bad. 

When they climb back into the car at the end of the night Tony hesitates to start the car because he’s had the opportunity to consider that maybe Steve isn’t the type you take home on the first date. In fact, Tony’s beginning to think that maybe he should give Steve the respect he deserves and drive him back to his own apartment, kiss the back of his hand, and then GPS his way to hell for thinking that Steve would even allow him to get it in after the first date.

Then Steve asks, “Are you still awake enough for movies?”

“Yeah, I am.”

Steve looks down at his lap for a second, then he looks back up at Tony and says, “Only movies?”

Tony’s a bit thrown by the question because he’s not sure what answer Steve’s looking for. He's already given himself emotional whiplash over the thought of taking Steve home, and now the guy's asking him about his intentions and he doesn't know what to do. Honesty’s clearly the best policy when it doesn’t include ‘no, I’d also like to stick my cock down your throat’ - that seems like maybe it’s the boundary for what’s appropriate here.

“You got something else in mind?”

Steve shakes his head ‘no’ but there’s a visible trembling in his hands. “Movies are okay.”

Tony takes the scenic route back to his house so that he can think. It only buys him an extra five minutes and a topic of conversation, but they pull up into his driveway all the same.

Steve gets out first and does a once over of Tony’s place. “It’s huge.”

“What can I say? I’m kinda loaded.”

He’s actually surprised to have picked Steve up from an apartment complex. The man likely has just as much money as he does. I mean, it's not Bill Gates level money but it's enough to have a nice living space.

Steve laughs and says, “I can’t wait to see the inside, then.”

Tony walks him to the front door and then makes a show of unlocking it, wiggling from foot to foot because he’s nervous. It’s hard not to be when Adonis’ bastard son is standing behind you waiting to get in. He steps aside and lets Steve pass him, and then he flicks on the lights in the entryway so that Steve can get a good look at the place.

“Oh, wow! Tony - _this is_ … it’s beautiful.”

Of course. It’s an open concept home decorated by Natasha Romanoff, it’s basically perfect. Tony tries not to say that. Instead he says, “A friend designed it for me.”

“You can watch tv and fix dinner at the same time.” Steve points out.

A man after Tony’s own heart.

They decide to skip the popcorn because Tony hates the way the kernels get stuck in the back of his throat, but he mixes them drinks based on what he thinks Steve would like while the man makes himself comfortable on the couch.

By the time Tony goes to join him Steve has removed his denim jacket and leaned back as far as possible in his seat. His legs are as spread as the jeans will allow and it’s so reminiscent of the photoshoot they’d done together that Tony visibly startles and says, “You’re making a pretty fucking picture right now Rogers, but you gotta close your legs before I embarrass myself.”

It’s probably the strangest thing that’s ever come out of his mouth and Steve doesn’t say a word about it. He closes his legs a bit and smiles. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Here, I made you something.”

Tony realizes that Steve is quick to apologize, but even quicker to thank somebody. He takes the offered cup with a gratefulness that doesn’t seem proportionate to the action. It’s literally just a Disaronno Mule, it’s not like Tony had to harvest some juice from Mars, but Steve is thrumming with a happy sort of energy and he immediately takes a sip of whatever it is.

“Can I ask what’s in it?”

“Sure you can.” Tony laughs. “It’s just Disaronno, sugar and ginger ale.”

“Oh. I’ve never had Disaronno before.”

Tony raises his glass and says, “Glad to be popping at least one cherry tonight.”

Jesus christ, he just can’t shut his mouth. Steve raises his eyebrows and says, “You know, if you’re interested in having sex with me you could say so. I’m a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but I think maybe that’s what you’re hinting at here.”

Tony’s slack jawed. It’s his own assumptions that have made him speechless like this. Steve doesn’t seem the type to be so straightforward. 

“Yeah? You think? I called myself daddy for you, of course I wanna have sex with you.”

“You don’t have to call yourself daddy.” Steve whispers against his glass. “I could do that for you.”

Tony’s so ill-prepared for this entire conversation. Steve sips from his drink and then hands it politely back to Tony saying, “Maybe I should be drinking water.”

“Yeah. Let me put on the movie then I’ll top you off. Top off your cup. Top that... get you some water.”

Steve laughs and shakes his head. “Okay, thank you.”

They end up watching the Lion king because it’s impossible to tent your pants when you know Simba’s dad is gonna be thrown off of a cliff, but Tony’s body still tries feebly to give his cock a bit of juice. It’s not like Steve notices, the guy’s making wide eyes at the television screen, gripping his glass of water like it’s personally offended him, and he keeps making commentary under his breath about how Scar’s an asshole.

All in all, it’s the weirdest first date Tony’s ever gone on.

**IV: Important Conversations**

“So… you and Steve Rogers, huh?”

When he’s not being inquisitive, Rhodey’s a joy to take out on the town. Right now? Tony feels like he needs another three shots. It’s a good thing they’re at a bar and that Tony has managed to steal the bartender for long enough to get himself another few drinks of something whimsical. Like a buttery nipple.

“Tony.” Rhodey laughs. “Clint told me. Unless you want me to get relationship details from him, I’d start talking.”

The bartender slides two shot glasses across the counter and Tony diverts one of them to Rhodey before saying, “Bottoms up.”

“What the hell is this?” Rhodey asks.

“It’s a buttery nipple.” Tony tells him. “I paid for it. I love you. Just drink it.”

“Can I mix it?” Rhodey asks. A bit more quietly he says, “It looks like shit and oil.”

“You want me to get you something a bit more fruity? Might get you ready for these facts I’m about to drop on you about me and Steve getting down.”

“Jesus.” Rhodey says as he takes the shot. His reaction is priceless. He twitches almost violently and then he fixes Tony with the most disappointed look he’s got. It doesn’t work because Tony ends up ordering another two. “No, no, no." Rhodey says firmly. "Just one. I’m not drinking another one.”

Tony shrugs his shoulders and when two shot glasses slide across the oak and stop in front of him, he tips one right into his mouth, followed closely by the other. Rhodey sighs and shakes his head.

“I met him on a shoot a few weeks ago.” Tony starts. “And I said something…”

“Clint told me.”

Tony has a mental scribbly pad that he logs Clint’s offenses on and this conversation is certainly going on the list, right next to ‘shagging the boss without monetary perks’. It's been weeks since him and Steve had started meeting and of course Rhodey was gonna find out about it, but Clint's version of the truth is almost always wrong and it's always a bit more dramatic than it needs to be.

“Well what the hell else is there to say? That’s basically it.” Tony says.

“That’s not basically it.” Rhodey tells him. “The last time you went out with someone for more than a week, you two were engaged.”

Tony turns back into the bar and tries to order another two shots of whiskey but Rhodey reaches out to the bartender to cut him off with a firm, ‘Can we just get some water, please?’. Tony sighs and smacks his forehead down on the bar.

“I don’t know, man. I just…” There isn’t anything Tony can admit to that won’t freak Rhodey out so he just closes with, “I fucked up. Him and I are a good match, but I’m not good at talking and I think this kind of relationship requires that. If I don’t talk to him, someone’s gonna end up getting hurt.”

“Physically.”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “I mean, not just physically. I don’t wanna hurt anybody. But yeah.”

They shouldn’t be having this conversation at the bar. Tony squints over at Rhodey and the man seems to understand because he nudges Tony’s cup of water closer to him and says, “Whatever you’re into, I don’t care because I love you and I let you do dumb shit, but if this is something you need to talk to him about then take another shot and go do it. That’s all I’ll say about it.”

So Tony's not under any disillusions. He knows that the conversation has to happen.

It eventually comes up because Tony’s balls are so blue he’s creating a new color on the spectrum and he presses his luck in the middle of a movie. It’s not his fault, honestly. Steve’s laying on the shaggy rug in the living room because he’s hot. His shirt is dangling from the couch arm and his legs are spread, they’re always _fucking_ spread and so when Tony walks into the room with a bowl of trail mix and sees the display something has to happen.

“Steve.” Tony says.

“Yes, Tony.” Steve says. He looks over from the television and smiles. “Close my legs, right? I’m sorry.”

“Why do you always apologize?” Tony asks. He sets the bowl down on the coffee table and then goes to stand over Steve, stepping over his chest so that his feet are on either side of his body. When he looks down Steve is looking up happily.

“Because I’ve done something you told me not to do.”

“You like doing what I tell you to do?” Tony asks quietly.

“Yeah.” Steve says.

The room gets awful quiet. Tony could just drop to his knees right now and he’d be straddling Steve’s waist. Maybe Steve has the same idea because he goes bright red and turns his face away, cheek kissing the fibers of the shaggy carpet.

“And you’d call me daddy?” Tony asks.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Steve breathes. His fingers are quivering again and his eyes slip shut.

“Have you ever done this with anyone before?”

“Just once. I never called him ‘daddy’, I called him something else.”

Tony tries to keep his mind straight, but it’s caught on the idea that someone else tried this with Steve and they fucked up. Somewhere, something didn’t work out and so Steve was here laying on his back in Tony’s living room, on his white shaggy carpet with his eyes closed, waiting for Tony to ruin him.

“What’d you call him?”

Steve hesitates, but then he says, “Sir.”

“I don’t want you to call me that.” Tony says. It’s almost immediate how clearly it doesn’t work. “I don’t think it fits me.”

Steve reaches out and runs his palm down Tony’s calf, kneading the muscle. “I don’t think so either.”

“I wanna take care of you,” Tony admits. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

"And I don't think you will. That's probably why I like you so much."

Steve squeezes Tony’s calf firmly and then Tony moves off of him, standing beside him instead of over him. Steve’s face is turning a beautiful pink color and he’s smiling which means that Tony’s on the right track with all of this. He straightens his resolve and decides to just go for it. Give it a shot. “Go take a shower and then wait in the bedroom for me. I’ll join you in a minute.”

“Okay.” Steve says.

And as naturally as that, Steve stands up and heads for the bathroom.

Tony stops him right before he’s out of sight by saying, “And Steve?”

“Yeah.”

“No clothes.”

Steve nods his head and carries on while Tony goes to sit on the couch. He mutes the television so that he can hear the shower water running, and he doesn’t move until it stops. Steve is a bulky guy. His movements echo through the house as he goes and so Tony knows exactly when he’s made it to the bedroom and he gives himself another five minutes of building up pressure before he stands up to join him.

What he expects to see when he gets into his room is Steve sitting naked on the bed, hands folded in his lap, completely attentive and ready to listen. What he gets is Steve face down in the middle of the mattress, ass bared to the world and arms trapped beneath the weight of his chest as he seemingly dozes off.

“You awake?” Tony calls out as he steps into the room.

“Of course I am.” Steve says. It’s hushed. He sounds relaxed.

“Comfortable?”

“That too.” Steve tells him. He opens his eyes and peeks over at Tony who’s still standing in the doorway. “Am I making you nervous?”

“Not at all. Am I making _you_ nervous?”

“No.”

“Just waiting for me to come over there and show you who’s boss?”

“...yeah.” Steve laughs. “Something like that.”

Tony smiles to himself and then approaches the bed. He hadn’t expected that line to work but there it is, Steve’s shying away and pressing his face into the pillow in front of him to hide his blush. No use being shy now.

Tony decidedly goes to the foot of the bed and grabs Steve’s ankles, spreading his legs further before crawling onto the mattress between them, and then he feels like a king because he’s got this fucking _god_ in his bed, face down and completely naked, waiting for him to give some orders. He's never really done this before. It's all kind of a shot in the dark but he's looking down at the rise and fall of Steve's large back and it's okay, he thinks. He can do this.

“Red's the word, got it?”

Steve turns his head and says, “If I want you to stop?”

“Yeah. It’s always red. For anything, if you don’t like it you call it quits, okay?”

“Okay.” Steve agrees. “Red is stop.”

Tony winds one arm under Steve’s hip and uses the other to press down at the base of his neck and Steve makes a happy noise into the pillow because it's been weeks of Tony not doing anything. Every noise that falls from his lips is muffled by the fabric of the pillowcase but Steve sounds gorgeous. When Tony's got his back bent he leans down and lays a kiss on one of Steve's cheeks. 

“You like having your ass in daddy’s face?” Tony asks. He does it to check if this is alright with Steve, and it fucking works. Steve responds physically, spine arching further and fingers groping at the fringes of the pillow. Tony licks his lips and thinks funnily enough that Steve likes being exposed, clearly enjoys being watched, and that so far he's done a damn good job of navigating this situation.

The goal here is to do what he knows and see how Steve responds to it. Tony crawls to put enough distance between him and Steve and then grabs both of Steve's cheeks firmly in his palms, kneading them.

“Are you gonna spank me?” Steve breathes, head turned just enough for the words to work their way out.

“You think you deserve that?”

Steve whimpers and says, “Please, just once.”

“Just once?” Tony asks. Then he rubs Steve’s backside and lets his hand down on it roughly. Steve yelps and jolts forwards, then he looks over his shoulder in shock and Tony has to stop himself from smiling. Maybe just once is a bit too much.

Or not.

Steve groans and turns his face into the crook of his arm. “Oh my god. Maybe twice.”

So Tony does it again, raising his arm back and smacking Steve evenly in an almost identical spot on the other cheek. This time Steve huffs but doesn’t make a show of it. Tony trusts Steve to stop him if it’s not what he wants, and so he goes back to the other cheek and spreads his fingers before bringing his open palm down on Steve’s pink cheeks. It's not hard but he's trying to make it sting, whipping his hand down and pulling back up quickly so that it leaves less of a thud and more of a quick, sharp impression.

“A-ah.” Steve pants. Tony likes what the vibrations do to the skin under his hands and so he gives Steve another three open palmed kisses and watches the way his body reacts. When the skin is pink and warm Tony leans in to kiss both sides, kneading them again and then blowing on them to give them a bit more heat. 

Steve looks more comfortable than he does unsettled and Tony's all about raising the stakes, pushing the boundaries. The next time he raises his arm he puts some muscle into it, swinging down so hard that Steve’s entire body rocks up the mattress and Steve calls out, “Tony, _shit-”_ and the profanity is so shockingly attractive when Steve says it that Tony stops for a second.

“Fuckin'  _yes,_ ” Tony growls, bending over and nipping a mark into the man's sensitive skin. He hopes it shows up tomorrow; just a little patch of purple and blue coloring his skin. Honestly, he's not sure if he's working Steve or himself up more with the punishing rhythm he sets immediately after he's bitten the guy, because his hand starts to ache and then he thinks he's gonna tire them out before they've done anything else. 

Steve chokes on a particularly brutal slap and starts rocking forward with each smack after. Tony knows he’s getting off on this, thinks about Steve’s gorgeous cockhead dragging against the comforter beneath him as Tony works some heat into his ass. He's wearing himself down to the point that he can’t handle it - and after a few minutes Tony stops himself and grabs Steve around the hips, forcing him to turn over so he’s on his back. Tony nestles himself comfortably between his thighs and then says, “I’m gonna suck your cock” and Steve just moans and spreads his legs wider so that Tony has enough room to move.

Tony’s never bent over so fast.

He fists Steve’s dick in one hand and steadies Steve’s hips with the other so that he won't choke. He leans down and tongues at the liquid beading on the head of Steve's gorgeously thick prick. Steve’s sweating and pleading with Tony to just do it and the amazing thing is that if Tony looks down, past the dick in his hand and the balls beneath them, he can see the cherry red color of Steve's skin and the work that he's done on it.

“You want daddy to suck you?” Tony breathes out. He’s pretty fucked up too, actually.

“ _Yes, please -_ ” Steve begs as Tony leans down to suck the tip into his mouth. Steve’s cock is huge so he plays with the head, tongue dancing along the underside as he bobs up and down on it a few times. Then he takes it a bit deeper, jerks with his hand so that he’s kissing his fist on the way down and breathing easy on the way up. Steve tries to hold still and his thighs shake as he speeds towards an orgasm he probably hasn’t earned, but fuck it. As far as first blowjobs go, Tony’s pretty happy about this one. They have plenty of time to work out a reward system afterwards.

He lets go of Steve’s cock for long enough to spank him as he sucks him off, balancing precariously on his knees for a second so that both hands are free and Steve reaches down, running his hands through Tony’s short, dark hair so that he can pull him closer. Tony allows himself to be lead all the way down, gagging when Steve's blunt head taps the back of his throat, and then pulling off. When he gets to the pearly gates and he's asked by some glorious deity about his life long charity, he'll willingly admit he once deep-throated a guy because he'd gotten to spank him for the better part of ten minutes. It's probably not an appropriate thought when he lets Steve push him back down, nose tickling his pubic hairs as Steve all but chokes him on his dick. The second time he pulls off it's to shake the water out of his eyes, but Steve hardly notices, just keeps thrusting up into the hand that's made it's way back to his dick.

“Ugh, _fuck_. Come on, baby,” Tony rasps. “Be a good boy and come on daddy’s face."

Steve is holding so tightly to Tony’s hair when he comes that the man thinks he might’ve ripped some out. There’s a soft exclamation that’s more a wounded noise than a decipherable word and Tony chances a look up right as the first strip of come paints his lip. He pumps Steve even as the man’s dick twitches in his hand, leaking all over his fist.

“There we go.” Tony says so quietly that he doubts Steve can hear it. It's not like his voice is working. Steve's just gone and assaulted his throat. 

He doesn’t stop tugging Steve’s cock until the man goes boneless beneath him and then when he goes oversensitive and reaches out to still Tony's hand. 

“Holy cow.” Steve says. Tony smiles up at him.

“Holy cow?”

“Yeah,” Steve laughs back. “Just… shit.”

“That’s more like it.” Tony says. “Fucking hell, you just ripped my hair out.”

“Oh my god! I’m sorry,” Steve says. Tony shakes his head and crawls up Steve’s body, flopping down over him and kissing his neck. He could rub one out on Steve’s leg and call it a night, but he’s fucking knackered and his arm hurts. Maybe he should have warmed up before opening fire on the glorious bastard's ass. That thought tickles him a bit, and when he realizes that Steve’s fondling him to see how hard he is he reaches down to tangle their fingers together.

“I don’t need it. Suck me off tomorrow. Lemme take a minute.”

“Okay.” Steve says quietly. And then he says, “Thank you Tony. I can actually do up to a hundred of those.”

Tony presses himself closer to Steve because the guy is big and warm. “I'm pretty sure we got close but in case I haven't told you yet, you’re fucking spectacular.”

When he wakes up he reckons he should probably sit down with Steve and sketch out what they can get up to. Take Rhodey’s advice and communicate, but for now he’s gonna sleep for a bit and rub Steve’s chest so that he can process the fact that he’s actually just spanked the hottest piece of ass in North America.

**V : Catch and Release**

It takes a while for Steve to do something worth being punished over.

Tony has a gig with Steve for the first time in months and he’s stoked for it. Steve’s big enough in the business now that he catalogues with other big names, in this case a younger woman named Elise who’s from Germany and talks with a bit of a lisp. It doesn’t dampen the fact that she’s really good at controlling her environment and that she’s here just like Steve is, shooting for Vogue. From a purely professional standpoint, Tony’s impressed.

Not once does he stop to consider that the amount of praise he’s giving her is disproportionate to the amount of praise he’s giving Steve. It’s likely because he praises Steve almost habitually at this point and so he’s just overlooked it, but either way it's a huge fucking deal. When the shoot has wrapped up, Tony misses when Steve dips off set because he’s too busy asking Elise where she learned to make modeling her bitch.

It's a decent amount of time after the fact that Tony realizes he's missing.

“Where the hell did Steve go?” He asks Clint after he's scanned the room and there's no sign of him.

“Bathroom.” Clint says. “He left about fifteen minutes ago.”

That’s not strange or anything. Atleast, Tony doesn’t _think_ it is. Not until Steve comes back with a nice flush to his face. As strange as it sounds, Tony knows that look. The fact that Steve’s stopped making eye contact is another clue, and if he weren’t 100% certain that Steve’s just gone and done something naughty, the unzipped pants would certainly point him to that assumption.

This is an issue because Tony had given Steve an order not to touch himself yesterday evening and he thinks that Steve's gone and broken that order.

“Where’d you go?” Tony asks him as he looks back down at his computer. He sounds indifferent because he wants to see what'll happen.

Steve huffs and says, “To the bathroom.”

“Mm. Well we’re done with the shoot here if you wanna go home and wait for me. I’ll be back soon.”

“Tony…” Steve starts suddenly. His face looks like a fire truck and Tony panics for a second because he knows what Steve is gonna say. Clint'll to be able to hear it and Tony doesn’t really want Clint to hear it, so he takes Steve by the arm and tugs him away from the equipment.

Steve looks absolutely miserable.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Tony asks.

“...I made a mistake.” Steve whispers.

Tony knows what he’s done, but it’d be nice to hear Steve say it. “What’d you do? Tell me.”

Steve shudders and his eyes slip closed. “I touched myself.”

Tony clicks his tongue and says, “Even when Daddy told you not to, huh?”

“Yes.” Steve says dejectedly. He looks down at Tony as if the world's about to implode and says. “I’m sorry.”

Tony reaches out and runs a hand through Steve’s hair, stopping at the base of his skill so that he can grip a handful. He pulls them together until their foreheads are touching and then he says, “I know. Go home and wait for me. I’ll be back in a bit to sort you out.”

“Okay.”

The exchange doesn’t go unnoticed by Clint who actually looks concerned by the time Tony gets back to their work station. He’s about to ask something when Tony cuts him off with a quick, “You got a coin?”

“What kind of coin?”

“Like a quarter.”

“Oh,” Clint says. “Yeah.”

He reaches into his pocket to grab one and then hands it to Tony who pockets it quickly and says, “Here’s the thing. I gotta go home and clear something up with Steve real quick. Can you handle the rest of this?” The shoot is done. There isn’t much else to do so it shouldn't be a problem, but it's always polite to ask.

“Yeah. Is he alright?”

“He’s fine.” Tony laughs. “He’s just a bit under the weather. I’ve gotta go sort him out.”

Clint throws his hands up and says, “Okay, yeah. I got this.”

The entire drive home Tony’s a bit wired because this is the first time he’s ever had to consider reprimanding Steve for something he’s done. He knows it’s what’s necessary and understands that Steve enjoys this kind of behavior, but it takes a lot of consideration to come up with a way to discipline Steve that doesn’t make the man uncomfortable and that also reminds him, with purpose, why he’s being penalized.

Steve is waiting for him in the sitting room when Tony walks in. The whole open concept is a lot more applicable now that he’s got a boyfriend waiting for him to come home. There aren’t any halls for him to navigate before he sees the pretty picture Steve’s making on his knees.

Tony doesn’t say a word. He goes over to where Steve’s kneeling and when he's in front of him, crouches down so that they’re face to face. Steve’s a sight for sore eyes even when he’s pouting a bit and waiting to receive his punishment, so Tony doesn’t drag it out too long. He does lean in and kiss Steve’s nose before he says, “Talk to me. Why’d you do it?”

“That girl.” Steve says readily. He’s quiet about it but he answers honestly.

“Elise.”

Steve looks like he’d rather curl up than have this conversation. He also looks ready to roll over and prop himself up on all fours so that Tony can spank him already. “Yeah.”

“You got jealous.” Tony guesses. “And so you broke the rules.”

Steve whines and apologizes again.

“Okay.” Tony says. He stands up and says, “Pick a wall.”

“What?” Steve says. “You won’t spank me?”

“I don’t want you associating that with a punishment since you actually _like_ getting spanked. Pick a wall.”

Steve licks his lips and then looks nervously at his options. There aren’t a whole lot since the living room is so open, and Steve has no idea where this is going anyway so he can’t pick one that’ll lessen the blow of whichever punishment Tony’s got up his sleeve.

He points to the one over Tony’s shoulder.

“Go kneel in front of it.”

Steve crawls his way over slowly and Tony watches the way his body moves until he’s right at the wall he'd chosen, knees pressed up against the trim. Tony follows him over with a hand in his pocket so that he can pull out the coin Clint'd given him.

“This coin doesn’t touch the floor,” Tony says. “I’ll be very disappointed if it does. Do you understand?”

Steve looks up at him and then says, “Yes Tony.”

So he’s not feeling very happy about this, but he’ll manage. He wants to be punished but he doesn’t like this one otherwise 'daddy' would've slipped in there somewhere. The point of a punishment isn't to like it, Tony reminds himself, it’s because Steve won’t feel right if there isn’t retribution for what he’s done. But he still sometimes has to swallow the idea that Steve can't function without this - that if Tony doesn't enact some kind of reward and punishment for the things they do together then the entire system they've made falls apart. He'd do anything for Steve and if that includes giving him a space to think about his actions, he can do that. 

Tony presses the coin into the wall with one hand and then leads Steve’s face to it with the other. When his nose holds the copper in place Tony releases both and steps back.

“Don’t drop it.” He reminds Steve softly before going to take a seat on the couch.

He’ll give it twenty minutes, he decides. Steve’s been on his knees for longer than that and it’s a good, solid amount of time for the man to think about why he's upset. Steve will sit there and think about it. He might cry a little bit but when his time is up he’ll let Tony take care of him without the weight and added guilt of having disobeyed Tony’s orders.

It’s a strange thing to watch the amount of control Steve exerts over an event like this. He doesn’t move even though his back and neck are probably killing him, and Tony gives the man his rapt attention as five minutes turns into ten and ten into fifteen. Steve keeps his bright, blue eyes trained on the wall in front of him and the coin stays pressed where it’s supposed to.

At some point Steve whimpers and Tony adjusts himself on the couch so that he can get a good look at what’s going on. Steve’s emotions are adjusting themselves as he slips into his own little headspace and at just twenty minutes Steve is trying to keep himself together. He’s visibly upset but he can’t sniff or move his head without dropping the coin and so he’s kneeling and whimpering, waiting for Tony to collect him.

Tony tells him the time is up. He's done a good job. Now they need to talk.

“Steve. Come here.”

Steve cries out and says, “I’m sorry, Tony.”

“I know, baby. Come here.”

Steve hesitates but leans away from the wall and the coin is unreasonably loud when it hits the hardwood floor. Steve can’t walk and so he gives himself a second to stretch his knees and then he crawls to Tony, over the shaggy rug and around the coffee table, and when he’s settled between his knees he lays his forehead on Tony’s thighs.

“Do you feel better?” Tony asks.

“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.”

“It’s okay to get jealous, Steve. That’s normal.”

“I know,” Steve says.

“You trust your daddy, though, don’t you?”

Steve sobs and buries his face further in Tony’s pants leg. This can’t just have been about the Elise thing; this is something that Steve’s had building under his skin for a while. Tony runs a hand through his hair and says, “I love you Steve. I’m not angry with you.”

“I’m angry with me.” Steve tells him.

Tony thinks about how to handle that. He can’t punish Steve further for what he’s feeling and self-punishment isn't a healthy way to deal with anything. 

“Come lay up here with me.” Tony says eventually. He lays down on the couch and presses himself up against the backrest so that Steve can fit beside him. Steve crawls up easily and slots himself around Tony like an octopus, nudging his legs between Tony’s thighs and clinging to his chest. Tony laughs and leans down to kiss him. “You just need someone to take care of you. Listen to me Steve. I'm not angry with you and I don't want you to be angry with yourself. It's over and done with."

“Okay.” Steve mumbles against his skin. Then after a second he says, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Tony wonders if it’s appropriate to become so fond of someone in such a short amount of time or if it's appropriate to exchange this much trust in a newer relationship. Then he scratches the idea because he realizes that if he were an appropriate kind of guy, this entire relationship never would have happened. Some people just click and it's weird, unexplainable and sometimes it goes a little too deep. 

But this is the way things are, and this is what they both need, so Tony just wraps his arms around Steve's midsection and tugs him closer, letting the man fall asleep against his chest. 

**Author's Note:**

> Lord have mercy! This was so much longer. I'm gonna just add all the extra stuff in a different chapter. Thanks for reading! Hope it wasn't too short (it was supposed to be a ficlet but it was a little long for that so I just put all the pieces here). Any and all errors are my own including (but not limited to) characterization. Let me know if you see any that really need fixing. I looked over this thing a gazillion times and I guarantee I missed something. Anyway, short point: Thanks T, love you boo. Muah. I'm on tumblr at litindecency and my Hartwin stuff is on here at kissingandcrying. ^-^


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